


Thorns of Death

by Catdaddyseven



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Is Gay, Falling In Love, Fluff and Smut, Loyalty, M/M, True Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-10-31 17:52:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10904397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catdaddyseven/pseuds/Catdaddyseven
Summary: Alan Humphries and Eric Slingsby have been partners in the Reaper's Association ever since the day they were assigned together for their Final Exam. One spiteful day that their supervisor, William T. Spears, forced Alan to work overtime as a result of Eric and others coaxing the brunette to drink the night before; he arrived late for work the following morning. But working late by yourself sometimes has its disadvantages, and Mr. Humphries was soon to find out that matter.





	1. Intoxicated

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of my first works that I've actually put a lot of effort into... So whomever is reading, I do hope that you enjoy! 
> 
> Note: Chapters will hopefully be out every Sunday, depending on how much work I get before school ends!

The cold, wintery air swept throughout the streets of London, whistling past, and slipping under the brief cracks between windows. A brisk draft flooded into the room, surrounding a rather young brunette, whom tugged at the front of his suit-jacket. Shivering slightly, he placed his hands against the desk, forcing the chair backwards as he stood, turning about on his heel. Quietly approaching the door, his slim hands gently pressed to the top of the window, his eyebrows furrowed as he slowly lowered the glass down, snapping it shut with a clumsy wooden latch. 

Upon shutting the source of the cold, his eyes wandered aimlessly down against the streets below, as if looking for something to obscure him from his normal duties. One hand pressed gently to the frigid glass, an exhaled breath slipped past the pair of thin lips plastered so sternly upon his face.

"Aye, 'tis 'nother brisk night 'gain.." A deep, yet soothing voice echoed from the doorway. 

Snapping out of his brief trance, the brunette slowly glanced over his shoulder, a quiet sigh pressing through what little open space rested between his lips.

"Good evening, Eric.. It's a surprise to see you're still here.. Isn't it nearly past business hours?" The slim man responded, stepping towards his desk, and adjusting the bright crimson tie tucked neatly under his suit's jacket.

"Aye," the slightly older and taller of the two spoke, before a soft grin spread across his face, practically showing from ear-to-ear. "Me 'n Ron, we're goin' tae the local pub.. O'course, Ron suggested tae bring his superior 'ith 'em.. " He chuckled, as he leaned against the doorway, his free hand absentmindedly twirling around locks of his bleached blonde hair.

".. 'n then I thought tae meself, what if I brought ya 'ith me?" The blonde grinned, folding his arms across his chest as he pressed his case closer. He didn't want to come off as desperate towards the other Reaper, as his only intentions were to have the brunette come with him a

Raising a brow upon hearing the other's words, the brunette pursed his lips in thought, not able to hide the slight thought of him actually wanting to tag along with the group. 

Noticing the other's intruiged expression, Eric felt a tiny smirk curve over his lips. He shifted his weight away from the doorway, the missing of his presence causing the door to slide shut with ease behind him. Pacing towards the wooden desk in the middle of the room, he placed his hands softly atop the multiple piles of paperwork, the smirk still present across his face.

"A'ight, Alan... ya in 'er nah?" The blond reaper stated once more, his voice expressing each syllable out in a smooth manner that caused Alan to hesitate with his wording, watching as the brunette furrowed his brows in slight frustration.

"Fine, fine... " Eric heard the other mutter under his breath, waiting for him by the door as he gathered up a bit of unfinished paperwork. After placing the papers neatly into stacks in his black, leather briefcase, Alan silently padded towards the door, his dress shoes clacking softly against the wooden floor of his secluded, tiny office.

Raising a brow upon hearing the other's words, the brunette pursed his lips in thought, not able to hide the slight thought of him actually wanting to tag along with the group. 

Holding the door open with his foot, Eric combed a hand back through his slicked, shiny golden locks, though his bright emerald eyes followed Alan's every movements, carefully gazing over the tinier reaper as he locked up his office cubicle for the night. Ever since the two had known each other, they had nearly become inseparable. They were paired up for the final exam to become a full-fledged reaper, and until now, they've both worked better in pairs. Alan was the more intelligent in paperwork of the two, turning everything in usually on time, his notes and handiwork absolutely stunning. Though the tinier man lacks slightly in his reaping skills, Eric is the one to make up for that fact. The blonde reaper is marvelous when it comes to harvesting the souls of near-death mortals, yet his own eligibility to do paperwork is quite lacking. In comparison, they both fit together like two puzzle pieces-- They both rely upon one another to complete the tasks at hand efficiently and quickly.

Whilst the two men strolled down the hallway side-by-side, they talked over matters of what was to come the following day. Moreso, Alan was the one planning to stay in his cubicle and do paperwork the entire day, but Eric had other plans for the two. Unknowing to the brunette, the blonde had spoken to William T. Spears about how Alan should receive more proper reaping training, rather than just sitting around in his office with both their share of paperwork. Having agreed to his request, Eric planned to bring up his plan once the group had settled down at the pub for a couple drinks.

Having descended a couple flights of stairs, the two finally reached the bottom floor, only to find both Ronald Knox and Grell Sutcliff awaiting their arrival. 

"Ay, Alan, Eric! Glad ya could join me 'n Sutcliff!" Ronald exclaimed, a bit too enthusiastically as he moved from his position of leaning against a wooden support pillar.

"Hm? Ronnie??" Grell tilted his head as he whipped around, his eyes widening at the sight of the two younger reapers. "Oh, my my! Is this really a place for Mr. Alan Humphries to be going, Ronnie~? I think he's going to ruin /all/ the fun we had planned...~!" The red-head drastically exclaimed, pressing a hand against his forehead as if he were going to faint.

Eric narrowed his emerald eyes beneath his blue-tinted spectacles, before allowing his slightly muscular arms to fold across his toned chest. Casting a glance at the tinier reaper, he took notice of how stern and emotionless Alan had looked... 'Bloody 'ell, could Sutcliff b' right 'bout this...?' He repeated in his mind, the conception of how William could have had a drastic effect on his partner's personality replaying over-and-over again in his thoughts. "Spears mus' b' tae reason why 'e acts tae way 'e does..." The blonde reaped muttered under his breath, causing the smaller brunette to glance over, arching an eyebrow at his statement.

"My apologies, were you talking to me...?" Alan inquired, sighing quietly as his partner shook his head. 

"Nothin', Alan.. Les get goin' now, 'fore it's too late tae go.." Eric replied with a slightly bothered tone, though before the brunette could press on further to question him, he had already began walking towards the two awaiting reapers, who greeted him with a soft chuckle.

Grell and Ronald both wrapped an arm around Eric's shoulders, the three sharing laughs as Alan trekked behind the trio, carrying his briefcase in hand, his fingernails digging softly into the handle out of frustration. It was confusing how easily the three had gotten along, he himself always not seeming to fit in with the little 'clique' they had. As from Grell's point of view, the brunette was nearly as stubborn and hard-working as Spears. The conception of him even slightly resembling his superior flooded through his mind, causing the younger reaper to doze off into thought. 'No... I won't let that happen..' He absentmindedly murmured to himself, freezing in his tracks after he stumbled into the back of his partner. His eyes widened as his spectacles went askew, falling onto the street below them, part of his vision going blurry as a result. 

Raising a brow, Eric turned around to face the smaller reaper, noticing how he immediately took a couple of steps backwards. One of Alan's hands reached upwards, as if to feel for his glasses that were no longer present. 

"Oh, honestly Alan~!" Hollered a voice not far infront of Eric, a nearly inaudible groan heard afterwards. The red-head skipped back to the two, slight annoyance written in his face as he spoke.

Amusement lit up his face as he bent downwards, scooping up the pair of spectacles that rested upon the ground, and twirling them around in his fingers.

"Oh~? Is our little Alan unable to find his spectacles~?" Grell continued to tease, smirking as he stepped forwards once again, practically holding them infront of the smaller reaper's face. "It'd be a shame if I were to just--" He froze as one of Eric's hands darted out, grasping the pair of glasses in his palm. Yanking them away, an annoyed expression quickly etched itself onto his face. 

"Don't cha ev'r do tha' tae Alan 'gain, Sutcliff." Spoke the blonde, who sternly pressed both his arms against his chest, proving his point with a glare as sharp as glass.

Flinching slightly out of shock and surprise, the red-head pouted as the other ruined his fun.

"How dare you even lay a finger on a lady such as myself! Tell him, Ronnie!' Grell shouted, waiting a few seconds before peering open an eye. "... Ronnie??" He called out, whipping 'round briskly on his heel and squinting his eyes, noticing a darkened figure in the distance, whom leaned himself into one of the street's lamp-posts, his sparkling green eyes standing out in the darkness of the cold, wintery night.

"Eh?? Ronald peeped up, noticing the red-head begin to make his way towards himself, his eyes widening as a result. Attempting to slip past the lamp-post, the male let out a yelp as the back of his dress shirt was snatched by the grip of the other reaper. "Ey, Grell! Mind layin' off, I just had this suit tailored!" The shorter of the two hollered, only to earn a soft thwack! upon the head as a given result.

"Rude!" Grell barked at the other, stomping his heel down against the pavement to emphasize his point further.

Concurrently, Alan blindly reached his hands out, his emerald eyes squinting into the dimness of the night. 

"Eric.. my apologies for running into you.." The brunette admitted, feeling a soft pink flush over his cheeks in embarrassment. Thankfully, the darkness of the night blocked out the features upon his face. 

Leaning forwards, Eric sighed as he helped to place the other's spectacles upon his face, pushing them gently onto the bridge of his nose with his index finger.

"Alan, 'tis alright.. Ya did nothin' wrong in tae first place.." He chuckled, before running a hand smoothly back into his own silky hair, fingertips pressing lightly against the braided section of his hair. Bending his knees slightly to be at eye-level with the other reaper, he looked him in the eyes to make sure that everything was alright. As a result of this, Alan clutched his fingertips even more tightly around his briefcase, a bit of nervousness lacing into his voice as he began to speak once again.

"We should be going now.. I have paperwork that I have to complete at home, and it's.." he caught a glance at the watch on his wrist, squinting his eyes at the time, ".. nearly 23:00.. " Pursing his lips in thought, he was quick to shake his head, the thought of him staying later than 23:30 at the pub immediately dispersing from his mind.

With a simple roll of his eyes, Eric slung his death scythe over his shoulder, eyes shutting completely as he began padding down the pavement, nearing the end of the street. Turning the corner, he strode right into the pub, both his co-workers already having found their way inside.

Freezing in his footsteps for a moment, Alan bit at his bottom lip with hesitation, before shaking his head once again, and quickly racing after his partner. Following suit into the pub, he composed his posture, right as he paced up to the circular table in the corner of the room. A shaded light rested above each of the oaken tables in the room, a candle or so lit on the inside of the covered tray.

Sitting himself into the empty seat beside his partner, he gently placed his briefcase down on the ground beside the booth, his hands both clasping together gently in his lap directly afterwards.

Eric leaned against the corner of the booth, hair slightly ruffled as he blew a loose strand from his face, glancing over the menu with a look of slight curiosity. Casting a lone glimpse at his tiny partner, he chuckled softly at the idea of him being a lightweight coming to mind. Could it be that Alan had never drank before? Deciding to test out his hypothesis to see if it was true, the blonde threw his hand up into the air.

"Ay, o'er 'ere!" The Scottish man hollered, a woman in a type of maid's uniform quietly padding over, a tray tucked loosely under her arm. 

"Yes, how may I help you?" The slim woman replied, a tiny smile plastered against her face as she spoke.

"I'd like tae strongest whiskey ya've got.. 'n me partner 'ere will be havin' a glass o' brandy.." He smirked, glancing off as he knew that Alan had a puzzled expression on his face. Not wanting to ruin the fun, he nudged the brunette by his shoulder, quietly reassuring him that everything would be alright.

"Oh~! I don't really drink, I only came here because of Ron--"

"Ey, well arent'cha just a pretty lil' thing.." Ronald grinned, winking at the waitress as he took her gently by the hand. "I'd appreciate it if ya could fetch me a glass of your finest wine.." Then, by pressing a light, feathery kiss to the top of the woman's hand, she immediately went red to the face, before quickly racing back towards the bar area to prepare their drinks. Smirking at his victory of flustering the young woman, Ronald wasn't expecting to yet again be smacked a little more roughly upon the top of his head, a yelp leaving his lips soon after. "Grell, aye!" He hollered, mumbling to himself as a hand touched where the other had assaulted him. "You needa be more careful! This hair 'ere takes forever to comb o'er in the morn'!" Ronald muttered, his voice trailing off as he slumped over into his seat, his eyes continuing to watch over the girl making their drinks, despite Grell's rather harsh warning. 

A slight chuckle came from Eric as he casually stretched his arm outwards, resting it upon the tiny, sectioned wooden surface above the booth. The two seemed to get along most of the time at work, but when their shifts were over, the elder reapers were usually left to bicker and playfully fight with one another, as seen in the previous hour or so. Whilst the bickering went on, the blonde raised a brow as he cast Alan a glance, watching as he continuously looked down impatiently at his watch, then boredly towards the doorway. It seemed in his own mind that his partner was worried of sleeping in and being late to work the next day. Rolling his eyes, he dismissed the thought with a wave of his hand, right as the waitress strolled up to their table, the multiple glasses of alcohol atop her tray.

"And here you are, fellows! I hope you enjoy.." She giggled, giving Ronald a slight wave before she turned about, heading towards another table to give them the same warm welcoming.

Puffing out his cheeks in slight frustration, Grell figured it'd do no good to smack Ronald upside the head again. Instead, he slumped back into his seat, lightly jabbing him in the side with his elbow.

"It's quite inappropriate to court with a lady when she's in the middle of work, Ronnie! That was quite ungentleman-like of you!" Grell whisper-yelled into the other's ear, causing him to groan and lift the glass of french wine to his lips, the words the other spoke simply whistling into one ear, then out the other with ease. 

"Yeah, yeah.. I'm listenin', senpai.." He coarsely muttered, paying more attention to the alcohol at this point than to his red-headed friend.

Meanwhile with Eric, he picked up the glass of whiskey in his spare hand, raising a brow as he watched Alan's every movement, intruiged by what he'd do with the alcohol infront of him. Alan slowly took the glass in hand, narrowing his eyes in suspicion as he took a whiff of the alcohol, the burning smell clinging to his nose. Immediately placing the glass back atop a holder, he felt annoyed that the others insisted on him tagging along.

"I am by no means going to drink whatever is in that glass, Eric." Alan firmly stated, his brows furrowed as he tucked both his arms in neatly against his chest, his gaze drifting towards the doorway that he longed to escape through.

Grunting nearly inaudible, Eric placed his own half-empty glass down, before wiping at his mouth to rid of any excess alcohol.

"Are ya tae scared tae do it?" The blonde chuckled, leaning in slightly as the faint trace of alcohol remained in his breath. "Ya mus' b' a lightweight, then.." 

Snap. Those two sentences were all it took to get the brunette all riled up. The corner of his lips twitched out of irritation and slight annoyance. He couldn't just sit there and let his partner scold him all he wanted, like how most reapers back at the dispatch did to him. Clenching the fabric of his dress slacks in hand, Alan reached his spare hand out to snatch up his own glass of brandy. Then, as if he had drank alcohol before, pressed the tip of the glass to his lips, tilting his head backwards as the cool, burning liquid dripped down his throat. He savored the delicacy until the last drop, freezing in his actions only upon noticing that the other three reapers at the table were caught staring directly at him, their faces wielding both shocked and surprised expressions.

"My, oh my.." Grell whispered under his breath, Ronald muttering a quiet, 'Bloody hell, Alan.." in return. 

Eric relaxed back into his seat, smirking as he slung one of his arms around his working partner's shoulders, pulling him a teeny bit closer as a result.

"Aye, ya did it, Alan.. I'm proud o' ya.." 

Narrowing his now darkened gaze, Alan glanced upwards at the other, about to tell him off for his previous remark, but decided against it after seeing the proud expression etched across his face. Pressing one of his slim hands against the oaken table, he felt a shiver ripple along his spine. Chills dug under his skin, as a slightly groggy feeling flooded over in his head. 'Bloody hell.. what did those three make me do.. It'll be off with my head if I'm late to work.." He grumbled to himself, placing his free hand carefully to the top of his head in the process. Rubbing at his already aching temples, Alan sighed as the alcohol slowly began to take effect on his lightweight self. He'd never drank before, so this was definitely a first-hand experience for the young reaper.

"Mhh.. Is my throat supposed to burn..? It feels like it's on fire.." Alan replied, adjusting his spectacles that had fallen slightly, and pushing them back onto the bridge of his nose. 

Ronald snickered as he swirled the grape wine 'round in his fancy glass, a cocky smirk plastered to his face.

"Seems like Alan 'ere's never had alcohol before.." He teased, leaning forwards in his seat as he felt intruiged to see what the other would do.

Pressing a gloved finger experimentally to his own lips, Alan furrowed his brows in confusion, the groggy feeling completely engulfing his mind. His thoughts began to grow fuzzy, his eyes dilating slightly as a result from being intoxicated.

"I.. uhm.." The brunette began, clearing out his throat as he adjusted his crimson tie, his cheeks dusting over a soft, rosy-pink in the process. "Blimey, Knox.. there's two of you?" He whispered, leaning forwards in his seat to catch a better look at the other, a glare reflecting off his spectacles from the soft lighting. 

Glancing over from his conversation with Grell, Ronald perked up.

"Eh? What'cha ganderin' at me for? Had too much than ya could handle? Damn, what'a lightweight.." He teased, his own wine glass settled off to the side, emptied out to the very last drop. Since Ronald usually went out for drinks after work and often went to a do, it had gotten harder as time passed for him to go completely under the influence. Eric was particularly the same way, going to pubs himself for the past year or two, even when he resided in Scotland. Now, Alan was an entirely different story. He'd never drank before in his lifetime as a reaper, seeming as the activity was pointless to him. It was a bother that he completed Eric's paperwork at home so he wouldn't get into trouble for reaping more than he was supposed to, but the mere thought of going out into a public pub, with the chance of somebody other than his friends noticing him out late at night drinking, made his mind go blank. 

"And what did ya.. just say to me..?" Alan spoke, his voice now almost completely hazed over by the alcohol, the smell of it lingering strongly in his breath. Stumbling to his feet, he stood with a slight grumble under his breath, before stabilizing himself by placing both his slim hands against the table. "C'mon, I'll.. I'll fight ya.." He whispered, dazed as he felt his knees buckle slightly underneath him.

After finishing his drink, Eric realized he'd zoned out. Quickly snapping back to reality, his eyes flashed over towards the two reapers that looked as if they were about to claw each other's eyes out.

"Aye, hold ya horses, lads.." Eric spoke out, sighing as he scooted to the edge of the booth, standing up, and placing a hand diligently against his partner's shoulder. His fingers gently gripped at the fabric of his well-tailored suit-jacket, as he started pulling him back into his own hold. "C'mon, Alan.. we're goin' tae ya home now.." Whispered the elder of the two, scooping up his partner's suitcase in hand as he began ushering the 'lightweight' towards the doorway. Picking up his own death scythe, Eric ignored the whines and pleas that came from the drunk brunette, instead pushing him lightly out of the pub. He somehow knew very well that if he were to stay, troubling events would occur between him and Ronald.

"Eric... are ya blinkered?" Spoke the younger of the two, his eyes squinting against the dimmed light raying down from the street's lamp-posts. "I coulda taken him down, eh?" He whispered, his voice deepening slightly to enhance the masculine ring to it. Pressing closer, the brunette went to speak once more, only for his knees to buckle beneath him like jello, going weak as he stumbled atop the pavement, his dress shoes clacking noisily onto the concrete pathway below. 

Grunting softly, Eric opened his mouth to speak, though stopped himself as he watched his partner stumble in his footsteps, noticing how his knees began to tremble beneath his weight. Without hesitation, the Scottish man leapt forwards, catching the shorter reaper in both of his arms, waiting a moment before helping him back onto his feet. Allowing Alan to adjust himself, he exhaled a sigh out of minor frustration, his free hand absentmindedly brushing loose strands of blonde hair out of his face, tucking them beneath his ear. 

"C'mon, Alan.. I've gotta take ya home 'fore ya do somethin' unexpected.." He groaned out, growing impatient as he wrapped an arm around the other reaper, carefully holding him close as not to have him topple over again. Keeping his partner steady with a strong arm, he slowly began guiding the other down the pavement, keeping silent for most of the walk. "Where is yer flat, eh?" He murmured.

In return, Alan intoxicatedly lifted one of his arms, pointing down the street from where they originally came only a few hours prior. 

"Th..at way.." He incoherently muttered, his speech a bit hard to comprehend due to being slurred from the alcohol.

Eric quietly made his way down the street, only to give off the occasional grunt as paced onwards. He wasn't complaining about how he was forced to practically carry the other reaper in his arms, since he could openly admit that Alan was light, (weightwise). He was shorter than him as well; when standing tall, the brunette reached to just about the blonde's shoulders. Glancing up towards the sky, he exalted all free thoughts from his mind, paying attention solely to his drunken friend for the time being.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Approaching a darkened building complex, the two had been walking for about twenty minutes now, only due to Eric having to practically drag the other along the pavement. Taking a couple of more steps towards the doorway, Eric froze as his eyes narrowed against the glass, something not seeming to fit together. Now retracing his steps, he whipped around on his dress shoes, only to squint his eyes at the words that hung above the tall building.

"Shinigami.. Dispatch of Lond-- Alan, ya prat!" He groaned at the realization that his partner hadn't led him to his flat, but instead backtracked the two to the company they worked for. Tapping his foot against the ground and momentarily scratching at his stubbly chin, he decided it was for the best that Alan reside at his place for the night. He couldn't get the answers he needed from the brunette, and decided against leaving him infront of the building to roam about as he pleased. The scrawny reaper wouldn't last long by himself, especially due to his intoxication.

Finally coming to the conclusion that bringing the other reaper with him would have a fairly decent outcome, he closed his eyes but only for a moment or so, before snaking his arm 'round the smaller one's waist, and pulling him close to his side.

"A'ight... looks tae me tha' you'll b' stayin' o'er tonight.." He sighed, his fingers reflexively pressing to the tinier man's waist to grip him tightly. "Les hurry it up no', we gotta get tae work 'n tae morn', so ya gotta b' rested..

Silently making his way down the street, Eric refused to unhand the other, despite the multiple times that he tried to break free from the stronger reaper's grip. Mumbling something incoherently that resembled a swear under his breath, the two walked about the streets of London for fifteen additional minutes, the occasional guard walking by every now and then. 

Finally arriving at his flat, he reached into his coat-pocket, pulling out a ring that multiple keys were latched onto. Pressing the one labeled home into the door and after twisting the handle, Eric pushed the oaken surface open, the door creaking as it swung ajar. Then, waddling inside with his intoxicated partner, he guided him slowly towards the couch, not before kicking the door shut behind him with his foot. 

"A'ight, so.." The blonde began, running a hand across the cornrowed section of his hair as he began motioning to places. "Tae kitchen is o'er ther'.. 'n if ya need tae use tae washroom, 'tis connected tae my bedroom.. if yer 'n need o' anythin' else, don't hesitate t' ask, Alan.." 

Glancing over his shoulder, the eldest arched a brow upon noticing how quickly the other was to pass out, his slim frame fitting snuggly into the couch. A barely noticeable smile crept its way onto Eric's lips, as he took a step forwards, patting the other's head as softly as he could. Taking a moment to indulge in his own thoughts, the blonde felt quite relieved that the other reaper had fallen asleep. It was for the best that he sleep as soon as possible, and get as much rest as he could in the meantime.

Exhaling a sigh in relief, Eric left the room for a moment, only to return with a hand-made quilt. Carefully, he covered the other up to his chin in the cloth, making sure that he wasn't too cold whilst he slept. After all, it was one of the harshest months for the brisk temperatures to affect both mortals and reapers alike. Despite not technically being alive, reapers still needed to pertain to daily activities that they did when they were once mortals. They were forced to ingest food for nutrition, drink so as to not faint from dehydration, and most importantly, sleep whenever they were exhausted. 

 

Bending down to be at height with the other, Eric's gloved fingers gently brushed a loose strand of brunette hair from his partner's face, noticing how soundly he slept. The calm breathing, the faint rising and falling of his chest-- It was all the notifying he needed to realize that he'd be alright. With his free hand, the Scotsman quietly took hold of Alan's spectacles, two fingers grasping them between the nose-piece. Lifting them gradually, he was successful to lift the glasses into his palm; folding the temples inwards, Eric situated the bifocals atop a polished, cherry-oak coffee table. Hopefully if his partner awoke before him, he'd be able to find his spectacles with ease. 

 

Arising to his feet once again, Eric commenced to back away, his feet dragging soundlessly along the ground. He tried his best to keep quiet, the only audible noise being the occasional creak of the wooden floorboards beneath his black dress-shoes. Tensing up marginally, he froze in the fear that he'd awoken Alan, as the sound of rustling was heard abaft. Casting a glance over his shoulder, a breath of relief made its way through the pair of thin lips adorning his face. The brunette had only rolled onto his side, and tugged the blanket over his face, signifying that he was frigid. Piercing greenish-yellow eyes softened in the darkness of the room, as the Scotsman recommenced the walk to his own room. 

 

Upon entering the rather large room, Eric padded towards one of the small tables beside his bed, flipping out a box of matches from the drawer. Holding one of them in-between his teeth, he clasped his fingers 'round the holder of a candlestick, before taking his free hand. Striking the match along the box, he carefully lit the capillary action, watching in silence as the light went ablaze. Returning the holder on its spot beside his bed, Eric now carelessly blew out the match he'd used, tossing it into a small ashtray soon after.

Combing a hand back through his silken hair, he sat himself on the edge of his bed, one of his hands gliding down his shirt, fingers skillfully snapping open the buttons from his dress-shirt. Once all the buttons were opened, Eric slid both his suit jacket and dress-shirt off his shoulders, tossing them over a nearly broken chair on the opposite side of his bed; his tie and dress-pants were quick to add onto the pile of messily scattered clothing. Now resting solely in his checkerboard-patterned boxers, the Scotsman tiredly stretched himself atop his bed, his hair messily scattering about in all directions when he fell back. Not bothering to pull the covers over his half-barren self, he crossed both arms beneath his head, staring up at the ceiling with a look of stress. It'd be a pain in the arse to tell Alan what he'd been tempted into doing. Not only that, but the blonde would have to explain to his partner how he ended up in his flat in the first place.

Thoughts brewing through his mind, Eric finally drew together the peacefulness to shut his eyes, allowing his body to relax into the mattress. Deciding to save all the troubles for tomorrow, he only prayed that everything would go smoothly after the discussion of what happened the previous night.

Falling slowly into a deep slumber, the Scotsman was at tranquility, the moonlight from outside the window looming inwards, falling softly upon his resting, nearly motionless figure.


	2. Chapter Two - Retribution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alan Humphries arrives late to work due to his partner's little outing at the local pub the previous night... Will he arrive to work on time, or will he receive harsh retribution?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay of the second chapter, things have just been so busy with finals coming up and all! Anyways, I do hope you enjoy chapter two!
> 
> (And if anybody is interested in doing Black Butler RPs, please don't hesitate to contact me! My Kik is Elizawolf!)

Dawnlight peeked inwards through the cracks of the enclosed curtains, the slight warmth falling softly upon the brunet that slept atop the couch. Shifting quietly under the quilt, Alan slowly peered open his left eye, his right following suit. With blurry vision, he reached a hand upwards to shield his eyes from the harsh winter sun, his spare helping him into a sitting position. Glancing around in confusion, he could barely make out a figure that resembled his glasses. And so, he reached an arm out, grasping at the sides of his spectacles, before placing them onto his face, pushing them onto his nose by the bridge.

Once vision came back to the younger reaper, he silently lifted a hand to his head, rubbing gingerly at his temples. A dull, yet throbbing pain was present, leaving him to ponder on the events of the previous night.

'Pain... Why am I in pain?' Alan thought to himself, squinting his eyes as he continued to rub at his aching skull. 'And why am... This doesn't look like my flat.." With pursed lips, he slowly rose to his feet, the quilt falling loosely to the couch in his absence. Beginning to peer around the small, open area, the brunet ran his hand along the countertop, his eyes scanning the messy kitchen. Scrunching up his nose in slight disgust, he was quick to snatch his hand back, rubbing whatever germs were present on his suit, making a mental reminder for himself to clean the clothing when he arrived home later. 

Shaking the thought away, Alan pressed himself further into the flat, making his way down a small hallway with a singular door at the end. Breath catching slightly in his throat, he couldn't hide the fact that he was somewhat nervous as he reached a hand out, fingertips pressing lightly against the oaken door. Creaking it open slightly, the brunet allowed his eyes to gaze around; a desk brimming with stacks of unfinished paperwork with an old, broken chair, a window with out-of-date, ripped curtains, and a couple of paintings hanging on the walls. 

Tensing up at the sight before him, he noticed his reaping partner in the mattress, sound asleep with the occasional snore emitting from his throat. Clasping a hand over his mouth to keep himself quiet, he then finally realized.

Oh.

Oh dear.

He was in Slingby's flat.

Not entirely sure of what he was supposed to do, he began to take a couple of steps backwards, only for his foot to get caught on the leg of a small table in the midst of the hall. Falling onto his back, the impact of the fall caused the ground to tremble only for but a moment, but that was all it took for the Scotsman to suddenly jolt awake, snapping upwards into a sitting position without any hesitation.

"Wha' 'n tae hell was tha'...?" He mumbled to himself, only to swing his legs over the side of the bed, and rise to his feet. Rubbing the remaining sleepiness from his eyes, Eric paced over to the doorway, creaking the door open entirely to stop in the entrance. Raising a brow, the blond was quite shocked to see his work partner splayed out on the floor, his suit all jumbled and messy from the impact of the fall.

"Ay, Alan... yer awake." Eric leaned against the doorway, arms folded across his chest as he now raised the other brow. "Ya prolly 'ave many questions fer me, 'n ah understan'. I'd b' confused too if I randomly woke up 'n a stranger's flat." He chuckled, brushing a bit of messy hair from his eyes to get a better look at the brunet lying on the ground. Truth was, he forgot to put on his  blue-tinted spectacles when he got out of bed. The only thing he could see was a darkened blob, though it was quite easy to tell that it was Alan, matter of fact. 

The smaller reaper propped himself up on his elbows, glasses askew as he stared upwards, completely flabbergasted by what he saw. There stood his partner, leaning into the doorway without a care in the world that all he wore was his boxers. Without the usual pair of spectacles adorning his greenish-yellow eyes, Alan admired how well they complimented with his black-and-blond infused hair. That was only the beginning of his thoughts; he couldn't help but to stare, absolutely entranced by the other's natural beauty. 

Eric was always the reaper that women from the general affairs department would flirt and court with. He couldn't deny the fact that the Scotsman was quite handsome himself, too, especially now, as he stood half-naked infront of his partner. 

Biting gingerly at his bottom lip, Alan quickly snapped his gaze away. The other reaper had become too much for his innocent little heart to handle. It was almost as if his mind had snapped a physical image of Eric at that very moment, the picture replaying over and over again in his mind. There stood the Scotsman, muscular arms folded against that well-toned chest of his... Messy dirty-blond hair falling softly over one of his gleaming eyes... And not to mention the little tuft of blond hair that--

"Alan, ay!" 

The sudden yell from his reaping partner caused Alan to snap out of his luxurious trance, his cheeks dusting over a faint rosy-pink from the little day dream he had.   
"Ah said tha' if we dun getta mov'on, then we're gonna b' even mor' late tae work!"

Tensing at the other's words, Alan felt his face go pale as he lifted his arm, only to pull back the cuff of his suit-jacket's arm to glance at his watch.

'7:24.. Oh,

Oh no.'

Quickly rising to his feet, Alan wasted no time in whipping 'round on his heel, bolting over to the couch to grab his death scythe and briefcase full of unfinished paperwork. As he raced towards the door, the brunet paused in the doorway to give the other a final glance.

"Explain this situation to me later, Slingby." Was all the words that he had time to mutter, as the door was swung shut roughly behind him, the entire flat seeming to shake for a moment.

Flinching as the door was slammed, Eric rose an arm to scratch at the back of his head, his eyes still planted on the doorway Alan was in simply a few moments ago.   
"Al, ah hope ye won't stay mad forev'r.." He prayed to himself that his partner would understand the situation when he explained it to him later on in the day.

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Rushing coarsely through the streets of reaper London, Alan's feet quickly dragged him towards the Shinigami Dispatch Association, muttering an incoherent apology to those who he stumbled into along the way. Holding his briefcase with unfinished paperwork to his side, his eyes lit up with relief as the faint outline of the building he worked for appeared in the distance. Perhaps if he could just slip inside un-noticed, then he wouldn't get caught by his supervisor?

Making his way up to the set of double-glass doors, he carefully swung one of them open, before silently shuffling inside. His dress shoes clicked softly against the floorboards as he hurried past, nearly tripping over a reaper with slicked, two-toned hair in the process.

"Eh--?" Yelping as his arm was suddenly rushed into, the blond spun about on his foot, only to catch his balance before he was able to fall. "Hey, whoever did that's 'bout to--.. Alan?" 

Freezing in his tracks, the tinier reaper glanced over his shoulder, locking eyes with the taller one in the process. "Ronald.. my apologies, I didn't mean to stumble into--" 

"Ay, don't sweat it!" Ronald chuckled, rolling his eyes as he leaned into the wall beside him. "Tha's the least of your worries. I'm suggestin' that you hurry along now, unless ya want Spears-senpai up in your arse about bein' late."

Taking the thought into suggestion, the brunette nodded slightly in agreement, before beginning to pad off towards the set of elevators.

"Oh! And Alan?" 

Stepping inside the elevator, Alan glanced towards the other reaper with an arched brow as he spoke.

Folding his arms across his toned chest, a cocky smirk was quick to line over the younger one's lips.

"Lightweight~" Ronnie teased with a cackle, winking at the shorter brunette as the elevator closed behind him.

Feeling a slight heat arise in his cheeks, Alan pressed a couple fingers to his burning cheek, squinting his eyes as flashbacks of the previous night blurrily whizzed through his mind. He was in his office, the last he remembered, before his partner had asked him to join Knox and Sutcliff for drinks at a local pub. Everything in between then, and the point where he'd been coaxed into drinking liquor for the first time was a blurry haze. Running the fingers than had been pressed to his cheek through his short, messy hair, he tried his best to make himself at least slightly decent. His suit and dress slacks were wrinkled from sleeping in them; his hair ruffled, unable to be tamed.  
Hearing the faint ding of the elevator opening, Alan quickly paced through the hallway, a couple of reapers raising brows at the young man's hurry. Reaching into his breast pocket, he retrieved a key with a little skull on the end, placing it into his office door. Turning the knob, he padded hurriedly into his office, dropping his suitcase atop his barren desk, then materializing his death scythe into thin air. Strutting across the room, he peeled the darkened curtains from the window, allowing the light to shine through into the room. Raising an arm to block out the harsh winter sunlight, he breathed out a shaky sigh as his free hand pressed gently to his chest, feeling his very own heartbeat racing, coursing and pumping blood vibrantly throughout his veins. 

 

"Mr. Humphries." A deep, stern voice emitted from the doorway. 

Flinching upon hearing the strict voice, Alan slowly turned about on his heel, his golden, glowing eyes scanning up at his supervisor.

"Mr. Spears.." The smaller reaper respectfully bowed to the other, knowing very well how much his boss adored common courtesy. 

Narrowing his eyes in suspicion beneath his pair of thin spectacles, William T. Spears took a couple steps into the room, the door shutting behind him. Holding his death scythe in hand, he used the end to adjust the bridge of his glasses, pushing them back up onto his nose.

"Humphries, I'm addressing an issue that's been of importance recently." Spears began, keeping a motionless posture that made the man look as if he were dead for a second time. "There have been quite a number of souls being reaped lately, some the names of mortals.. that were not to become deceased, on the to-die list. It has come to my attention that we are in dire need of reapers out on the field, ones with sufficient strength and enough intelligence to not aquire trouble." Razing his piercing sharp gaze, the supervisor's eyes stared deeply into his subordinate's, his voice coming out more serious now than before. "We believe this may be the case of demons, but even we are not entirely sure on that matter."

Clearing out his throat, Alan nervously rose to his feet from his bowed-over position, arms positioned courtesly at his sides.

"Sir, is there a specific reason you're telling me this?" The tinier reaper inquired, a hint of hesitation laced into his voice. 

Furrowing his brows at the other's question, William took a few more paces towards his subordinate, standing at about two feet or so away from him.

"Quite." He commenced, adjusting the cuffs of one of his sleeves as his voice lingered through the room. "I am quite familiar with your skills, Humphries. You are far beyond superior at paperwork, and though I am not the one to generally compliment another being, you have managed to baffle me. Though.." He pursed his lips together, brows knitted in concentration. "Due to the high number of lost mortals as of recently, I require both you and Officer Slingby to advance into the field for today."   
Every possible muscle in Alan's body seem to tense up at that very moment. He couldn't believe the words that uttered from his supervisor's mouth. Yes, if he was forced out to reap souls and record cinematic records, he wouldn't dare object, considering as it was a part of his job. The scrawny reaper was specifically good with sitting at a desk, and completing paperwork all day. He and Eric were two puzzle pieces that connected together perfectly-- Eric went out into the field, and took the job of reaping souls that Alan was in charge of doing. Therefore, Alan had his share of the task, by doing the assignments that his partner was supposed to do, atop his own additional work. With one another, they were able to complete both their work; the two being nearly inseparable ever since the very day that they were assigned to work with one another.

"Mr. Spears, is it necessary that I do work in the field? I would much rather prefer to stay in my office and complete paperwork, if only you'd allow it." Alan spoke, his voice quivering slightly as he nervously glanced upwards, taking note of the stern look his supervisor gave him.

"Unfortunately, we reapers cannot always have our way. My apologies in advance, but as of your request, I do have the right to decline, and so I do." Adjusting his glasses, he spun about on his heel, facing the doorway as his voice loomed over once more. "You will still be in charge of the paperwork you miss whilst out in the field with Slingby."

Clearing out his throat, he began striding with confidence towards the door, holding it open as he glanced over his shoulder once more.  
"Think of this as a punishment for being late to work this morning, Humphries. The only reason I'm not temporarily moving you out of service is solely because of the need for more reapers in the field. Goodbye." Shutting the door behind him, the tinier reaper was left in silence, a hand pressing to his forehead in response to the last words Spears had muttered. 

"He'd known, then.." He whispered to himself, only to comb a hand back through his hair, his gaze traveling to the circular mirror pinned upon the wall. Noting his drab appearance, he scrunched up his nose in slight disgust. If only he'd woken up earlier to have the time to go home and at least tidy himself up. No, if only he /hadn't/ tagged along with his partner when he insisted that he joined them for drinks last night. Curling his hand up into a fist, his nails dug firmly into his palm, a pent-up breath of frustration slipping past his thin, paled lips. The brunette typically wasn't the type to get angered over something so small, yet somehow, he felt a twinge from deep within his heart, the strings feeling as if they were being plucked apart, one-by-one.

Grasping fingers curled around the sides of his glasses, pulling them slowly from his face as he stared into the reflection. Leaning forwards, he pressed a slim hand against the cold glass of the mirror, his golden gaze reflecting off with the vibrance of a thousand suns. Exhaling an irritated sigh, Alan allowed his forehead to press the mirror as well, his eyes slowly fluttering closed. More thoughts pursued through his head as he dazed off into his mindscape, short breaths escaping his thin lips on occasion.

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From the outside of the door, the Scotsman known as Eric Slingby waltzed into the department he worked, holding his death scythe over his shoulder. He would admit, he was quite nervous to speak to his partner, but he knew that the brunet had the right to know what happened entirely the previous night. Brushing a hand back through the dirty-blonde hair that flourished over his left eye, he froze in his steps as his supervisor, William T. Spears, stepped out of his partner's office, his eyes frigid and sharp as ever. 

Hiding himself behind a desk by crouching down, Eric remained silent as work bustled around him, only peering around the corner once his supervisor had retreated to his own office. Furrowing his brows, the two-toned haired reaper slowly arose to his feet, grunting as he let his hair fall softly back upon his face.

"Must'a figured out tha' he was late." Murmured the Scotsman, as he began his trek towards his partner's office. Once he arrived, he went to rasp his knuckle gently upon the door, before he squinted his eyes at a nearly inaudible sound on the other side. Leaning in close, he carefully twisted the doorknob, barely opening the door a couple of inches as he peered inside, golden-green eyes landing upon the small reaper pressed against the mirror.

Arching a brow, Eric allowed himself to pad inside, before shutting the door behind him with his boot. Keeping his regular composure, he couldn't help the feeling of his muscles tensing, a bit of unease settling into the room. Clearing out his throat to catch the attention of the other reaper, he gazed in half-silence as the brunet slowly lifted his head from the mirror, only to glance in the direction of his partner. Squinting his eyes against the harsh lighting of the office, he could barely make out the figure that was his partner.

"Slingby..?" Murmured Alan, who stood in place beside the mirror.

"Aye.. Ah didnae mean tae confuse ya earlier.. but I came 'ere tae explain why ye were 'in me flat this morn'." Approaching the other with a rather confident look, he placed a hand against the smaller reaper's shoulder. "Keep th' heid when ah tell ya this.. ah jus' wanted tae go out fer drinks, 'n Ronald suggested tha' ye come with us--"  
"Slingby, I'm quite aware of how it began.." The smaller reaper began, avoiding his gaze as his lips pursed in thought. "And how it.. ended.. dealing with how I strangely woke up in your flat this morning." Raising his blurred gaze, he took a slight step forwards, a frown curling over his thin lips as he went on. "The only question I have is.. what happened? I don't remember anything that occurred after drinking the liquor you bought for me.."

Inhaling softly, Eric stared down at the reaper with the tendency to explain himself, though found himself stumbling over his words. 

"Well, ya see 'ere.. eh.." Rubbing a hand nervously against the back of his neck, he was thankful that his partner had his spectacles removed, or else he might've seen the amount of hesitance the Scotsman's face held. " 'fter ye had drunk yer liquor, ye 'n Ronald almost 'ad a fight. Ah think it was 'bout ye bein' a lightweight.." He claimed with a nervous chuckle, his arms returning to their usual position, folded and bound against his chest. "Ah dinnae ken.. then, I tried tae 'ring ya home, 'fore ye said tha' ye were gaunnae go there. I didnae believe ya, so I jus' followed ye tae where yer 'home'," the Scotsman emphasized the word with finger crooks, "was, but aye, jus' me luck, ya went 'n stopped 'front tae very buildin' we be 'n at thi' very moment."

Leaning forwards, Eric felt his confidence boosten; the tinier reaper had a soft, rosy-pink blush faintly dappled against his paled, porcelain cheeks. Grinning nearly from ear-to-ear, he then plucked the dainty pair of spectacles from the brunette's hand, examining them over by holding them up to the light.

"..'n ah had th' gumption tae 'ring ye tae my flat. Ye were so drunk tha' I thought ye widnae woken up 'n tha' morn'." He smirked as he felt Alan's hands reach out, reaching for his glasses. But alas, with his now impaired eyesight, the brunette resulted in pressing his hand to the other's shoulder, his brows knitting with confusion upon the brief contact.

"And that.. is the entirety of the truth?" The brunette inquired, his voice coming out cracked due to his nervousness to find his spectacles, due to the other examining them over. But just as he went to speak once more, Alan blinked repeatedly as his spectacles were suddenly returned to his face, pushed up onto his nose by the bridge with the Scotsman's help. Their faces merely inches apart, the close contact made the brunette shiver, his golden eyes widening beneath the slim frames of his glasses. Oh gods, he didn't believe that his face could feel any hotter than it currently was. It was quite a wonder how the other was able to fluster him like so.

Eric chuckled, reaching a hand up to ruffle Alan's already messy hair as he slowly pulled his own head away. One of his fingers trailed downwards, pressing gently underneath the other's chin to tilt it upwards, both of the reaper's eyes making contact with one another as a due result. 

Feeling his heart skip a couple of beats, the brunette felt as if his soul had left his body, left to wander aimlessly throughout time and space itself. There was something odd about the way Eric touched him, his fingers gliding lightly as feathers across his own porcelain skin. His eyes locked onto his partner's, nervousness slid into his voice, making it seem as if he was unable to speak.

"Aye, Alan... o'course ah'm tellin' th' truth. Wid I ever lie tae ye? Ya trust me, 'ight?" He lowered his voice into a deep, slow melody, making sure to enunciate each syllable thoroughly as the words slipped free of his lips. 

Practically melting into his partner's light, feathery touch, Alan felt as if his knees could buckle at any given moment, his breath catching in his lungs... Reapers didn't necessarily need to breathe since they were technically deceased, but he could definitely feel something  refraining him from speaking. 

"I.." Staring directly into the other's eyes, the brunette gave a soft nod of confirmation, deciding it was for the best if he simply kept his mouth shut to refrain from saying anything too embarrassing. 

Sniggering at the lanky reaper, Eric slipped his hand off his chin, before holding both his arms to his chest in a folded position.

"I.. I.. Ahem.." Pressing a slim hand against his own throat, the slimmer of the two began to speak, the rosy blush that was present on his cheeks having faded. "I'm afraid that Supervisor Spears has assigned me to accompany you out in the field.. The association is apparently in dire need of spare reapers that are willing to have additional work."

"Eh? Additional work? Wha' are ye talkin' 'bout?" Muttered the Scotsman, furrowing his brows in response to his partner's reply.

Eyebrow twitching in frustration, Alan forced a calm demeanor for the other, though his fingers absentmindedly clasped together, nails digging slightly into the backs of his hands.

"As you may have previously guessed... Supervisor Spears noticed solely my  absence out of every other reaper that had been late this morning." He murmured to himself, feeling irritation arise from his chest as he forced himself to bite his lip to calm himself down. "It's as if he is expecting quite a lot from me... Yes, all of my paperwork is handed in on time, and not once have I ever done something to upset him. But this time.." He trailed off, his gaze traveling towards the floorboards, his voice quivering as he continued to speak. "It must be because of the amount of increased mortal deaths as of recently.."

"Increased mortal deaths? Eh, noo tha' ah think 'bout it.. Ah did overhear Grell blabberin' some nonsense 'bout demons 'n whatnot.. unless ye think it's actually him tha' caused all th' murders?" 

Pursing his lips, Alan pressed both his slim hands against the edge of his desk, fingers gripping loosely at the oaken surface.

"It couldn't possibly be Sutcliff, Slingby. For death's sake, you'd think a reaper would know better than to not collect the souls of mortals not on the to-die list.. But of course, after the, 'Jack the Ripper' incident.."

".. We cannot be entirely sure that it wasn't  him either." Going against his previous sayings made the brunette knit his brows in aggravation, knowing very well that he'd just contradicted himself. Mentally, he cursed at himself for being hypocritical of the situation. He'd just went about saying how they shouldn't blame their friend, yet evidence of previous cases they've been involved in spoke otherwise. 

"Al.."

Caught up in his own thoughts, the tiny reaper gritted his teeth together, feeling thoughts for both sides of the argument rush into his mind. He couldn't come to the conclusion of whom he wanted to believe for the unwanted murders; he was practically a dear in the headlights of a carriage in the middle of the night, aimless and clueless.

"Ay, Al!"

The voice of his partner suddenly snapped Alan back to full attention, his eyes immediately darting up to meet with his partner's.

"I.. apologies, I was stuck in my thoughts.."

Grunting softly, Eric reached his hand out to tussle his friend's hair once again, a reassuring tone laced into his voice.

"Ye said tha' we got work tae dae? Then why dun we getta movin'? Ah dinnae 'bout ye, but there's no way tha' ah'm stayin' tae work overtime." Turning on his heel, the Scotsman began padding towards the exit, stopping in the doorway to glance over his shoulder. "Plus, we might b' able tae find evidence 'bout th' accidental deaths." 

Gently lifting his briefcase, Alan locked the paperwork inside with a small key, before returning it into his suit jacket's pocket. Scooping up a portfolio with the to-die list along with a pen, the brunet quietly padded over to join his fellow companion.

"Right.. shall we, then?" He inquired with a now soft, calming voice, before clipping his pen atop the closed portfolio, his eyes staring reassuringly into his partner's.   
"Aye." Eric responded, smirking as he walked out of the small office with the tinier reaper, the two silently padding towards the set of elevators. ".. 'n by th' way, jus' call m' Eric. No need tae call me by m' las' name, sounds too formal fer me." He suggested, one of his gloved fingers pressing the 'down' button just on the outside wall of the elevator. 

Alan raised a brow at his partner's suggestion, cocking his head to the side out of slight confusion. He'd been taught by his parents in the mortal world to be proper, and always use manners by calling people by their last names. It was unusual, but the brunet supposed he'd have to get use to bending the rules from when he was young.   
"All right.. Eric.." The smaller reaper murmured, the elevator doors opening merely a few seconds later. The two stepped inside, Eric shutting the doors with a simple push of the button. Leaning against the rail, the Scotsman reached up, adjusting his darkened tie, and messily fixing his opened suit-jacket.

As the two rode the elevator in near silence, Eric blew a loose strand of blonde hair from his face, watching every movement that his partner made. Upon noticing the other tensing, he squinted his eyes in thought. Though the two were partners in the association, they hadn't spoken much about their past or personal lives. The two merely knew the basics of one another-- Eric Slingby, 26. Alan Humphries, 25. The Scotsman had to admit, he was drawn into the mysterious aura he sensed whenever he was around Alan. The tiny reaper didn't seem to be into talking about himself, instead focusing his priorities on work. Perhaps that was the reason why the brunet was tense; he'd never spoken to anybody about his true feelings, having them locked up tightly, sealed in the depths of his heart. Sooner or later, Eric feared that his partner would take on the personality of their supervisor, and bloody hell, did he /not/ want that to happen.

The jolt from the elevator stopping at their arrived floor snapped Eric from his thoughts. The doors opened, allowing the two to step out, and begin walking for the exit. Pushing the door open, Eric held it open with his foot for his partner, grunting as the harsh winter sunlight beamed down unto them. He thanked death that he had tinted spectacles, so the rays of light wouldn't affect him that badly.

Standing up straight and tall, Alan took in a deep breath of the crisp, winter air, allowing the coldness to fill his lungs. It'd been quite a while since the last time he'd been out in the field, and he prayed to death that his performance skills hadn't been tempered with. Flipping open his portfolio, he read carefully over the report of a young woman that was destined to die in approximately two hours time. He analyzed the information in his head, squinted eyes beneath his spectacles looking over the report multiple times. Clearing out his throat, he turned to face Eric, though his eyes remained glued to the report.

"Iva E. Blanc, aged twenty-four. She lives within a wealthy family, as stated from the report. Descended from a family around Rennes, France.. then came over the English Channel to London, where their wealth flourished." Closing the portfolio, the brunet tucked it neatly under his arm, before raising his hand to summon his death scythe. Holding the reaping tool close, he sighed and adjusted his thin spectacles. "Right.. shall we?" 

"Mm.. aye, aye." Replied the Scotsman with a shrug, before holding his hands up, his own death scythe in hand. Together, the two were successfully able to summon a portal into the mortal realm, all the surrounding air seeming to be sucked inside to the other dimension. "Well, wha' are we waitin' fer? Let's getta mov'on, then.. dinnae want more work than 'er supposed tae." 

Eric was gone within a split second, having jumped into the portal before his partner got a chance to speak. Silence grew over the area, before the brunet clutched his reaping tool and portfolio close, then following suit after the other, the portal snapping closed behind them. Traveling into another dimension wasn't all that pleasant, and reapers doing it for the first time were usually nauseous afterwards; it took a while to get used to.

Appearing suddenly in an abandoned alleyway in the midst of London's bustling streets, the two reapers stood in silence, their eyes afixed to the pavement. 

"So.." Eric began, as he started padding out of the alleyway, his eyes peering around the corner to make sure nobody was around. Dismissing his death scythe into thin air, he combed a hand back messily through his two-toned hair, eyes transfixing to gaze over at his partner. "Ye ne'er really told m' 'bout yerself, Al. All ah've known 'bout ye is tha' ye are amazin' at writin' paperwork.. 'n tha's th' reason why ah brought ye tae th' pub last night. Ah think Ronald 'n Grell 'er curious 'bout ye, tae." 

Stepping after his partner, the two began walking down the street, looking just as casual as any of the other men that were around. Though they appeared to the mortals, they had the ability of cloaking themselves into their surroundings, which enabled them to blend in easily and be unnoticed. One would have to pay great attention to be able to spot the reapers.

"My.. self?" The brunet repeated, his voice softening as he spoke. "There isn't much to know about me, unfortunately.. I happen to live a normal life as a full-fledged member of the Shinigami Dispatch Association. Is that what you were asking, Eric?" He replied, his voice drowning out in the midst of the busy pavement, making it hard for his partner to hear him.

"Eh, close 'nough.." Eric grunted, arms pressed to his chest in a folded position. In fact, what the brunet had murmured was the exact opposite of what the Scotsman wanted. He wanted to become closer with his partner, knowing that reapers whom teamed with one another would need a strong relationship and understanding of each other to succeed. Perhaps he could attempt to approach the smaller reaper again once they arrived back at the dispatch building; deciding to change the subject might be for the best.

"When's th' mortal suppose' tae die, Al? Ten, twenty minutes? 'n hour o' two? If tha's th' case, then we should go 'n scout 'round. Make use o' our time, aye?" He chuckled, rolling his eyes at his witty little statement.

"Oh, Eric.. that is actually not such a bad idea." Alan's eyes lit up with slight hope, though the rest of his face told otherwise, being nearly expressionless. "Perhaps if we're able to track down enough evidence dealing with the cases of the deceased mortals.. then there will be a lesser demand for reapers to be out in the field. I'd be able to go back to my paperwork, and by the prayer of death, I wouldn't mind going back to that at all. I'm.. not the best reaper when it comes to harvesting the souls of those meant to die. I would much rather stay in my office, do my share of work.. the things that I'm actually good at."

The last seven words uttered from the brunet's mouth caused a twinge of ache from inside Eric's chest. Touching a hand to his clothed breast, he could sense the other's sudden change of emotion. That stoic, nearly emotionless face of Alan's was inwardly filled with jumbled, scattered thoughts, and held a mysterious vibe. Upon hearing the other clearing his throat, Eric snapped himself back to reality, putting his attention fully on the brunet.

"It's nearly time," the brunet murmured, with a faint glance to his pocketwatch, "We should be getting into position now, Eric."  
   
And then, before Eric had gotten the chance to speak, Alan had already leapt atop one of the flats, disappearing over the other side of the roof.

Knitted brows gave way to an irritated expression, as Eric slowly lowered his arms to his sides. Piercing eyes beneath his blue-tinted spectacles stared in silence at the rooftop his partner had jumped onto. His partner seemed to have locked up all his emotions deep inside his chest, the feelings tucked away beneath chains of steel. Clenching one of his hands into a fist, the Scotsman slowly leapt into the air, thoughts scattering about his mind on how one day, he would surely find the key to revealing the hidden emotions of his partner.


End file.
